


Magic Tricks

by Lauren_is_a_moron



Series: Poof [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Lord of The Flies meets Riverdale, M/M, No adults, Polly Cooper is five years old, Sort Of, Supernatural Elements, based on a book, powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauren_is_a_moron/pseuds/Lauren_is_a_moron
Summary: Betty Cooper was doodling on her desk when her History teacher disappeared. At first she thinks she's imagining it, but he's really gone. One second he's there, the next; poof. Suddenly it's a world without adults that is ran by the popular kids who will do anything to stay in power. Which includes hunting and imprisoning kids who can do 'magic tricks' a phenomenon that is suddenly a disease, turning Riverdale's kids into freaks, including her little sister Polly.  Betty joins Jughead Jones, a boy hiding a secret and a bunch of her classmates on a quest for survival, setting out to unravel the mystery behind the disappearance of the adults and the sudden 'Magic Tricks' kids can do.Though what Betty doesn't know is that Riverdale has been cut off from the outside world by an impenetrable opaque barrier.  Riverdale's youth are all on their own with no adults, no rules, and an otherworldly enemy lurking on The Southside.





	1. Poof

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Okay, so I read a series when I was younger and fell in love with it. I became obsessed with it, man. Every time the author released a new book I bought it and ignored the real world until I'd read it. Along with The Darkest Minds, it's one of my all time favourite reads. I've always wanted to write a Riverdale fic based on the premise, but ahh, I've never had the motivation. Until yesterday, when I ended up writing 6K words and I'm so so happy it's now a fleshed out thing I can publish instead of an idea lingering at the back of my mind! :D

-

Betty Cooper was doodling when her history teacher disappeared. It was 10am and her brain didn't normally start functioning before midday, so instead of copying notes from the interactive whiteboard, as well as Mr Lana's droning voice explaining The Treaty Of Versailles Betty had found herself daydreaming as she scribbled on the hardwood mahogany of her desk. Her seat was situated at the back of class, so she had a perfect view of outside where the early fall sun dappled between the silvery greens of trees surrounding Riverdale High. When she craned her neck, strands of her blonde hair falling in her squinting eyes, Betty spied the school caretaker prowling the grounds, no doubt looking for litter in the perfectly trimmed grass. Betty wasn't paying much attention to the class. She normally did. Hell, she was the smartest girl in her grade. But something about 9am classes didn't sit with her. Plus, Mr Lana sounded like a dying dalek.

Her interest was peaked however, when Reggie Mantle let out a confused laugh. Which was uncharacteristic of him. Reggie was the captain of Riverdale High's football team The Bulldogs. The boy and 'confusion' weren't exactly simpatico. If Reggie shouted out in class, it was either pointing fun at the teacher, or just being an ass in general. But in this case, Reggie's yell had just been...confusion. There was no humour to his laugh. If anything it was more of an exclamation. Betty looked up from the doodle on her desk. She had managed to sketch out her name, along with a pretty decent depiction of Mr Lana, beard and all. The teacher was almost impossible not to mock. If it wasn't his robotic drawl, it was his dress sense; the same stained yellow sweater vest and pants. Betty had been accurately scribbling the man's grubby hair with black felt tip pen when Reggie had caught her attention. When she looked up, her blue eyes automatically going to the board where Mr Lana had been stood only a few minutes ago. She blinked and straightened up, dropping the felt tip pen. It rolled off her desk, but she didn't pick it up.

The teacher was gone.

Betty's 9am History class was at a standstill. Nobody had been speaking in the first place because it was a strict rule that classroom chatter was forbidden and the dozen kids were all still half asleep, so there never really were complaints. Mr Lana's class normally went by, silent and boring. The most interesting thing that had happened this semester was Kevin Keller getting the mother of all nosebleeds, managing to bleed all over his chair, his desk- himself. Betty remembered it had been quite the horror story. The poor boy hissing out in alarm. And when all heads had turned his way, Kevin's textbook had been smeared with claret. When he looked up, there was blood running down his chin, staining his shirt and hands. Mr Lana had sent the boy to clean himself up, and just like before- the class had gone back to being tremendously tedious.

But now the class were silent. After Reggie's outburst, nobody had dared open their mouth. Since Mr Lana who had previously been standing in front of the interactive whiteboard, waving a textbook around a little too violently- was gone. Poof.

Betty wasn't sure how else to describe it. She sat stiffly in her seat and squinted, crossing her eyes, doing everything she could to try and somehow imagine the teacher back into existence. But after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, it became obvious that Mr Lana wasn't going to magically reappear. Her gaze slid to the left where Archie Andrews was sitting. Until the point where their teacher had done an impressive disappearing act, she had been sure the boy had been fast asleep. But Archie was sitting up in his seat, leaning on his elbow. He too was staring at the front, his brown eyes narrowed as if he too was attempting to bring the teacher back with the power of his mind. Which was stupid, Betty knew that. But what else were a bunch of sleep deprived sixteen year olds supposed to think? Betty had been almost sure she had hallucinated the whole thing. That she would blink rapidly and her gaze would once again find Mr Lana and his sad, stained sweater.

But when she blinked for what must have been the thousandth time, the space where the teacher had been standing was still empty. And when Betty leaned forward to get a closer look, the bulging textbook he had been waving in front of the class was spread out on the floor, still on the page he had been lecturing from. Betty noticed a shift in the atmosphere. She heard quiet murmurs and confused giggles. One girl at the back, Ethel Mugs, started to sob softly. Though most of the class ignored her.

"What the fuck?"

Archie was the first to speak. Though his words were muffled, his lips curled around a blue biro pen. "What happened to Mr Lana?" Archie's question seemed to reverberate around the room. Andrews was right. Kids were sitting up and frowning, their gazes trailing to the doorway. But the door was and always had been shut. Mr Lana really was gone. The dozen or so kids turned to the redhead, as if he was now the source of authority. Betty had known Archie since kindergarten. The boy couldn't go one day without tripping on the hallways, or slamming face first into a tiny freshman. Definitely not leader material.

Though Archie looked good, she had to admit that. But Archie always looked good. Betty supposed the boy hid behind his varsity place in the football team. Which she guessed could hide the fact that he was clumsy as hell. Archie was perfect football player material however; bulging muscles and pale skin which complimented rich red hair. He wore his usual Letterman jacket thrown over his shoulders emanating the school colours; vivid blue and gold. Turning in his seat, Archie eyed the rest of his classmates, including Betty, who were staring back at him, wide-eyed. "Did you guys see Mr Lana leave?"

"Nope," the voice came from the front. Jughead Jones twisted around in his seat to face Archie. Jughead was an olive skinned kid with scruffy black hair poking from underneath a knitted grey beanie. There were always strands of it dancing across his forehead. Jughead was known for being an outcast, the kid nobody really spoke to. There had been rumours going around a few months ago that he'd knocked up a senior who had just given birth to twins. But the rumours had been started by Cheryl Blossom, who wasn't exactly the best source considering her unnecessary hatred for the boy.

Jughead, unlike the rest of the class, was grinning. Which was unlike him. Betty was sure if she'd never caught the boy even smile. But here he was, grinning wildly. It was a strange sight. "Didn't you see?" he mimed an explosion with his hands. "He just went poof!"

Archie leaned back in his chair. "Poof." he repeated, a smirk curling on his lips. He chuckled, like it was a joke. Well, maybe it was. The rest of the class began to mutter the word, some laughing, and some with genuine concern and questioning. Betty wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't used to joining in conversation with her classmates. Betty Cooper was invisible and she liked it that way. Betty avoided any extravagant hair styles of clothing choices, settling on keeping her blonde hair in a strict ponytail and a perfectly bland pastel wardrobe. She had settled on a pink sweater, pale blue jeans and converse that morning. Ignoring her mother's usual berated comments about her style.

_"Put some colour into your outfits, Elizabeth!"_

No thanks. Betty was good being plain.

Usually Betty's phone was her best friend, with a long playlist of songs, one for every mood, and an endless supply of audio-books. But when she pulled it out to check the time, the screen was black. Funny. She'd charged it this morning, and had quickly texted her mom before class before shoving it in her bag.

Frowning, Betty thumbed her screen a few times before trying the power button. When that failed and the screen remained dead, a panicked feeling began to build in her gut. She drummed impatiently on the screen repeatedly, her fingernail making tap, tap tapping noises. Betty raised her head, about to break her silence, before she was interrupted by a yell. Kevin Keller. Nose Bleed Boy. It wasn't the nicest of nicknames, but all Betty knew that the kid was the sheriffs son. The biggest impression he'd had on her life was having a nose period all over his mock exam. The boy jumped up, waving his own phone.

"My phone's dead!" Kevin looked horrified. Perhaps he was more frightened by his dead phone, than the real elephant in the room; Mr Lana's disappearance.

Betty stared at the boy, and before she could help it, she too was holding her phone up; "Mine too." she said. But her voice was enveloped with cries of her classmates all jumping up with varying levels of confusion and annoyance. They were all waving their phones like they were at a concert. Except it was a sea of black. Not one phone had any sign of life. Jugehead Jones joined the masses eventually, frowning at his beaten 5S. "Holy shit," he was tapping at the screen, hitting it on the side of his desk, even pressing it to his ear, as if that would help. "They're all dead." his voice was grave. Then he was pointing at the lights, and like clockwork, everyone was craning their neck and looking at the classroom lights which had been illuminated that sickly pale light Betty did her best to avoid. But now they, like everyone's phone, were dead.

"The power's gone out." Jughead said, stating the obvious.

"No shit." someone grumbled.

Archie Andrews stood up. He too was glaring at his phone, smashing his thumbs into the screen. But to no avail. With the confirmation that everyone's phone was in fact dead and they had lost power, the chatter grew louder. Betty still didn't get up from her seat, even when most of her class were standing, either in groups or individually dotted around the room looking confused and irritated. It wasn't until Moose Mason shouted, "Hey! Where did Mara and Tom go?" when everyone's attention snapped to him, and then to the two empty seats at the front. Betty felt a chill go down her spine. Moose was right. She knew Mara were is class earlier, because her vibrant purple hair had kept distracting Betty from her doodle session. Her seat was empty. As was Tom's, right beside her.

"They were here, right?" Archie spoke up. "I borrowed a pen from Mara."

"Yeah, they were." Jughead agreed. He was sitting on the edge of his desk, his eyebrows drawn together with confusion. "All three of them went poof."

"Poof!" Reggie Mantle seemed to find it hilarious. He leaned dangerously on the legs of his chair, grinning wildly. "Holy shit, they did an Infinity War."

There was a simultaneous groan.

"Poof." Kevin said out loud. He wasn't laughing. "They just completely disappeared."

"Stop saying that." Archie said. "There has to be a reasonable explanation to them just-"

The door to the classroom flew open, and Betty's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Her gaze flicked to the doorway, expecting Mr Lana, Mara and Tom. The teacher would yell at them for being out of their seats before explaining that he had to rush off somewhere, and her phone would ignite back to life in her lap. But no such luck. Instead of Mr Lana occupying the threshold, it was Veronica Lodge. She was captain of The River Vixens, and rightly so. The girl resembled a Greek goddess with smooth golden skin and long caramel hair cascading down her back. Veronica was in her Vixens uniform, a corduroy red cardigan over the top. The girl's hands were planted on her hips, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Where's your teacher?" Behind Veronica, there was a commotion, kids in hoards were sprinting down the corridor yelling and laughing. The reaction wasn't exactly surprising. If Betty's theory was right, then all the teacher's in Riverdale High had poofed. Which was cause for panic.

With that declaration, some of her classmates decided to join them as streams of teenagers ventured outside to see what was going on. Which left half the class still sitting or standing, unsure what to do. Every face was a mixture of confusion, panic and rapidly climbing delirium. Archie had stayed, as had Jughead and Kevin, amongst the ones who were unsure whether to join the growing parade outside, or stay where the mystery was slowly being unravelled. Betty nearly shrank into her seat when Veronica Lodge's gaze met hers. Her question still hung in the air, and despite the screams and yells of kids outside, the girl was still waiting for a reply. But when nobody answered, not even Jughead or Archie, Betty slowly rose in her seat, her cheeks blossoming red.

"Gone." she said softly. The reality of the situation dawned on her then, and her stomach twisted. Betty slumped back down in her seat.

The Vixen looked taken-aback. "Yours too?" Veronica hissed. Bam. Betty's theory was correct. The crowd outside grew louder, like oncoming thunder. Veronica let out a noise which wasn't quite a laugh. "Jesus, I thought I was going crazy!"

"Meaning?" Jughead spoke up. His gaze was stuck to the girl.

Veronica scowled at him. "Meaning," she rolled her eyes at the boy. "Miss Prescott my coach along with Ginger and Tina, the seniors I was practising with, they just-" the girl's expression crumpled, like she couldn't insinuate what had happened. Archie cleared his throat. "Let me guess," he said, with a half smile. His brown eyes were glued to Veronica Lodge.  Betty could practically smell the sexual tension. Archie and Veronica were a  _will they or won't they?_ kind of thing. Despite barely knowing each other, they always bumped into each other on the halls. The majority of the time it was Archie carelessly careening into her. But Veronica never seemed to mind that much, sending him a flirtatious smirk.

Betty's heart sank a little. She would do anything to be friends with any of them, even if it meant tainting her place as a ghost. The girl was desperate to be in some kind of group and the three kids who were conversing, clearly trying to figure out the phenomenon, were appealing to say the least; senseless jock Archie Andrews, class clown Jughead Jones, and of course the newcomer, social butterfly Veronica Lodge.

"They Poofed?" Archie smirked.

Veronica's eyes widened. "Yes!" she hissed. "And it's not funny, Andrews. I'm a flyer this semester, so they were lifting me, and - I don't know, I just felt their grip disappear, and I fell on my back." the girl groaned, rubbing her neck. "God, when I find Tina and Ginger I'm going to kill them."

"Wait," Jughead shot up from his desk, his gaze on the cheerleader, who leaned against the door, stretching her legs. "Veronica, did you say Ginger and Tina were seniors?" Betty felt stomach do a backflip. Just like the boy, she was slowly piecing bits of the puzzle together in her mind and they were coming to the same conclusion.

"Duh." Veronica muttered, frowning at her chipped nails. "They've been at this school for like a million years..." Veronica drifted off before letting out a soft, "Oh." her perfectly manicured hand went to her ruby lips.

"Holy shit." Archie's eyes had widened significantly. Betty felt a mix of simultaneous horror and pride. The latter because somehow the four of them, strangers a few hours ago, had cracked the puzzle together. The rest of the class fell into confused chatter, rapidly growing hysterical. Ethel Mugs made a bee line out the door, joined by Midge Klump and Moose Mason. Veronica didn't seem fazed. But she had paled.

"Tina and Ginger were seniors." she said slowly, removing her hand from her mouth. She looked to Jughead for confirmation and he nodded. "And so were Mara and Tom." The boy looked deep in thought, his hands reaching up to fiddle with his beanie. "They're both eighteen, right?"

Nobody answered. But the answer hung in the air like a bad odour.

"Let me get this straight," Jughead said, choking on what might have been a laugh. For a moment he seemed to notice Betty, still sitting there. She felt her chest clench. He was probably wondering why she hadn't joined the masses. Jughead groaned, raking his fingernails down his face. "Everyone over the age of eighteen has what? Disappeared?"

Veronica shrugged. "It looks like it." her blue eyes lingered on Archie, who was frowning at his desk, as if it had the answers to everything embedded into the chipped wooden surface. "Andrews, you have a car right?"

The redhead's head quirked, his gaze settling on Veronica. "Are we really settling on last name basis, Lodge?" he grinned, and the girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever." but she was smiling. "Do you have a car or not?"

"That I do." Archie murmured. He was chewing on his pen again, his teeth scathing the tip. "Need a ride?"

Jughead groaned. "Are you guys serious? Everyone over the edge of eighteen vanishes, we're plunged into a Y2K world and you're eye-fucking each other?"

Archie growled, straightening up. "Always the clockblock, Jones." he muttered. Then; "The power's gone out. I wouldn't exactly call it the apocalypse."

Jughead scoffed. "This is exactly what happens in the disaster movies, you idiot!"

Betty stared down at her desk. Her eyes went to the interactive board, still screening the power-point Mr Lana had been talking through. Feeling suddenly out of place, Betty chewed her lip. Any other day when she was feeling lonely, she'd start thinking about what she was going to make Polly for dinner. She felt her chest quicken, the realization hitting her like a tumultuous wave. Before Betty could hesitate she was jumping up from her desk and barging past Archie and Jughead, who was still leaning against his desk.

Polly. The little girl flashed in her mind, a bundle of bright pink and blonde pigtails. She was only five years old. Since Betty's parents were workaholics, Betty was her sister's unofficial carer. Before school, she had dropped Polly off at kindergarten but if her theory was correct and the phenomenon was wide-spread and affected adults, authority figures, parents...

"Whoa, where are you going?" Betty found herself breathless in front of Jughead Jones who was frowning at her, a smile playing on his lips. "Dude, I thought we'd already established our little gang," he gestured to the stragglers. The ones who hadn't run off. Archie Andrews, stood with his arms folded, Kevin Keller sitting cross legged on the floor, and Veronica Lodge still standing in the doorway.

Jughead cocked a brow. "As you can see, Riverdale's gone to shit," he murmured. His gaze didn't leave hers, and she found herself momentarily trapped in the boy's emerald eyes.

"You can't go running off now, Cooper."

For a moment, Betty was startled that Jughead even knew her name. But she shook her head, shoving him away. "My sister," she managed to get out. "I need to see if my sister is okay."

"Since when did you have a sister?" Veronica cocked her head. Betty opened her mouth to reply, but a cacophony of screams drowned out her words. After exchanging looks, Kevin and Archie were off like a shot, Jughead following in their wake. Betty lingered for a moment. She wanted to run in the opposite direction towards Polly, but Veronica grabbed her hand. "Come on!" the Vixen yelled, yanking her out of the classroom and onto the empty hallway, which looked like a bomb had gone off. Books were torn up and strewn everywhere while chairs and desks had been carelessly thrown around. They were obstacles Betty had to vault over, stumbling while still clinging onto Veronica's hand.

The source of the scream was a bunch of kids beating up a vending machine with metal rods no doubt torn from the trashed desks. Eventually the two girls joined Archie, Jughead and Kevin, who had skidded to a stop. They were staring at the chaos outside. Kids of all ages were running riot, screaming and yelling. Archie was swearing under his breath, while Jughead looked shaken. Two kids sprinted past them; a plump kid with a My Chemical Romance shirt and a tiny redheaded girl. "NO ADULTS!" MCR shirt yelled, his friend, the tiny redhead, letting out an appreciative holler. Before they vaulted off.

"No adults." Veronica repeated. Even knowing the grim truth, the girl looked like she going to vomit. "Oh god, my mom." she choked. She was frowning at a group of kids dragging a picnic table across the quad.

Betty tore her gaze from the mayhem going on outside. She was getting progressively more worried for Polly. If there were no adults, that meant the kindergartners were gone too. Her heart clenched. Polly was alone. "I'm sorry," she was backing away from the others, her hands clutching tangles of her hair. "I need to get to Polly."

"Hey, we said we'll come with you." Jughead said hurriedly. "It's just down the road, right?"

Betty nodded. She could feel her face flushing scarlet. "You don't have to come."

Jughead shook his head. "You're not getting rid of us that easily, Cooper."

-

Thankfully, some kids had enough sense to check on the kindergartners. When Betty rushed through the doors, gasping for breath, her face scarlet red, Polly Cooper was sitting in the playroom with her head in a book. Surprisingly, Midge Klump and her boyfriend Moose Mason had taken up control of the littles. The dark haired girl held two screaming baby's in her arms as she greeted Betty. "Betty, oh hi! Polly's just over there!"

Midge and Moose must have gathered all the littles they could find and brought them to the Kindergarten. The playroom was overrun with little kids. Betty stepped over books and toys, her gaze scanning through the crowd of kids, looking for familiar wispy pigtails.

Betty nearly collapsed with relief. Her eyes stung, hot tears trailing down her cheeks. Thank god she had left the others waiting in Archie's car. Betty scooped up the small blonde girl, and Polly giggled, wrapping her arms around Betty's neck. The book she'd been invested in slipped from her small fists. "Where's mommy?" the girl asked innocently, tugging on straying strands of Betty's hair. Unsure what to say, Betty smiled brightly. As long as she kept the facade that everything was okay, Polly wouldn't freak out. As far as she knew, Betty and Polly's mother was supposed to be picking the five year old up. "Uh..." Betty looked to Midge for help, but the girl was trying to read a story to two kids trying to fight for the book, while settling two infants. Moose was on his hands and knees pretending to be a horse while a dozen toddlers clung onto him.

"Mommy's working late." Betty lied. Hoping Polly fell for it. The five year old cocked her head and nodded, before pressing her face into Betty's shoulder. "I'm tired." she giggled. Betty nodded. It was only midday, yet it felt like Five O' clock. "Lets get you home." she murmured. Betty carried Polly over to the exit doors, but Midge intercepted her quickly, looking frazzled. "Do you know what's happening?" the girl whispered.

"MOOSE HORSE! MOOSE HORSE!" the kids started yelling when Moose collapsed onto his stomach, exhausted. "Midge!" he groaned. The boy was on the football team so he did make a make a pretty good horse. "Can you tell these little fuzz balls I'm not a horsey?"

Midge rolled her eyes. "Suck it up!" she shouted back at her boyfriend, before her gaze met Betty's once more. "Well?"

Betty sucked in a breath and shook her head. Midge looked crestfallen. "This is crazy," the girl whispered. The infants in her arms were asleep, and Betty nodded to them. "Where did you find the littles?"

"They were in the back of someone's car." Midge replied. "Reggie Mantle and Cheryl Blossom are rampaging through the town, it's crazy. Without sheriff Keller, they're taking advantage. I couldn't leave them." sighing softly, Midge eyed her, and Betty noticed the girl's eyes were glistening with tears. "Is it bad that I've named them?" the girl giggled, and Betty laughed. For the first time in what felt like forever. "Not if their parents aren't here," she lowered her voice so Polly didn't hear. "What did you name them?"

Midge hummed softly. "I've always wanted a kid named Luna, after Luna Lovegood," she smiled dreamily, gesturing with her head to the baby wearing a baby pink shorts and tshirt. "Moose wants the call this one Millhouse," she nodded to the other baby, smirking. "He's great with the kids though. They won't leave him alone."

Betty nodded, smiling. She felt like she could stay in the nursery and help out. Her classmates clearly needed the help. But the others were waiting outside.

 "Midge I'm sorry but I've gotta go, but good luck okay?" The two girls shared a hug and Betty bid goodbye to Moose, who was swinging a red haired girl around while she giggled, her arms spread out. A few minutes later Polly was fast asleep in her arms while Betty rushed back to Archie's car. The boy stuck his head out the window. "Cooper, finally!" he yelled. Betty had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing when Jughead, who had taken shotgun, hissed; "Her sister's asleep, moron!"

"Oh shit, I didn't know." Archie's expression crumpled. He ducked back inside. "Oh fuck, can I swear in front of her?" Jughead shoved him.

Kevin leaned over his seat, grinning. "Archie, stop talking."

"Hey!" Veronica whisper-shouted. "Can we get a move on?"

When Betty pulled open the car door Veronica and Kevin were making room for her and Polly. Betty smiled her thanks and climbed in, letting Polly curl up in her lap. "So where are we going?" Archie started the car, the radio sputtering to life. Static.

"Anywhere that's not here." Veronica murmured, leaning her head on Kevin's shoulder.

"Aye aye, captain." Archie murmured. Gripping the steering wheel, his eyes were riveted on the road. Betty figured Archie hadn't been driving that long, since he seemed nervous, the lines in his neck and shoulders were taut, his foot anxiously on the pedal.

"If you kill us, Andrews," Jughead groaned, stiffening in his seat. "I'll haunt you for the rest of my undead existence." But once Archie began to cruise easily down the road, his grip loosened on the steering wheel. Deflating in his seat, Archie sighed.

"i'm good." he said. Chuckling, Archie glanced to the back where Polly still lay sleeping on Betty's lap, then to Veronica and Kevin. "Guys, I know there's no proper authority in Riverdale right now, but I'd feel better if you wore seat belts."

Betty quickly fastened her seat belt over herself and Polly. Leaning back in the soft, leather seats, she could almost fall asleep. Her eyelids were weighing down. Everything that had happened had drained her. Thankfully she had got to Polly. That was all that mattered.

Archie and Jughead were bickering in the front, arguing over where exactly they were going. Kevin and Veronica were silent next to her. It was like the adrenaline rush that had held the five of them for the last few hours had dispersed. And what lingered was confusion and childlike fear. Archie may have been smiling and rolling his eyes, play-fighting with Jughead, but Betty could sense how the tense the boy was. Jughead was the same. He sat rigid in his seat, his expression blank as they drove down the main road, the mood in the car grew somber, the only sound Polly's soft snores every few seconds. After a while of driving through the town which had been overrun with kids, Jughead sighed. "We could head over to the Southside?" he murmured, pressing his cheek against the window. He was idly watching a gang of younger kids prowling the streets, armed with water pistols. They drenched anyone who went near them. Jughead winced when the spray from the kid's latest soaking hit his window. Turning to Archie; "We can stay the night at my trailer? I have the room."

Kevin shifted in his seat. "Where the murderous gangs are? No thanks."

"How about The Pembrooke?" Veronica spoke up. "My mom's a cleaner for them. If there really are no adults, there should be rooms free, right?"

"It'll be trashed by now." Jughead muttered. "Seriously, the Southside is our best bet."

In the end Archie drove for hours as the sun skated the horizon, the late evening sky was beautiful with its borderless flow of clarity: the vast, seemingly empty horizon seemed to stretch out for miles. Milky cotton ball clouds bobbed above them as the hue changed from crystalline blue to brilliant velvety red. Betty lay her head against her window, hugging Polly to her chest. Letting out a soft breath, she thought about her mom. Had she really gone, like everyone else?

Betty knew she should check, just in case. But the thought of stepping into an empty house terrified her. The weight of their situation kept creeping up on her in those precious moments of calm. It was like a bad dream, lingering in the back of her mind, ready to spring at any point. Remind her it didn't matter how hard she pushed it to the very back of her mind, it was still there. It was still there, nagging and gnawing at her. Betty was never truly safe from her own mind.

That what her meds were for; prescribed two years after she had suffered a panic attack and, in a moment of hysteria, tried to hurt herself. She was better now. That what she told herself. But the meds were what kept her brain in balance. Betty thought about them, still sitting on her desk. She'd have to go back home sooner or later.

They didn't really have a destination. Archie sang softly along to the radio. He'd dug out some of his dad's old CD's from the glove box, shoving them in the ancient CD player. Jughead nodded off, his face still pressed against the glass of the window. Kevin and Veronica found a mutual interest- musicals. Betty found herself fighting to stay awake as Archie murmured along to Wonderwall, while Kevin went on a hundred mile hour gush about Hamilton, Veronica nodding eagerly, every so often hissing out; "Yes! I love that part!"

The reverie of calm that had settled over the group was suddenly lifted when Archie let out a hiss, stamping on the brake. Betty had been teetering on the edge of slumber but not quite asleep. She sat up straight, her hands automatically going to Polly, who was still fast asleep. Smiling softly, Betty stroked the girl's hair. Before her gaze went to Archie who was breathless, his eyes narrowed at something obstructing the road.  
  
Jughead had jumped awake with a slurred yell, wiping drool from the side of his mouth. "What is it?" he murmured, leaning forward in his seat. Kevin and Veronica had gone silent, the two of them trying to get a look. Outside, streaks of vivid red and orange chasing the horizon were slowly turning a shade of blue Betty had never seen before. Betty guessed from the look of the last glimpses of the sun dipping under the horizon that it was around 6PM. "Wait, who are they?" Jughead still sounded half asleep. He was blinking in the glow of the car's headlights, his fingers gingerly adjusting his beanie over his dark hair. Betty could vaguely see two figures standing in the road ahead of them. When none of them moved, only casting fearful glances at each other, eventually someone tapped on Betty's window, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Hey guys! Can you step out of the car for us?"

Betty's heart skipped a beat. She recognised the kid's voice automatically. Loud, teasing and obnoxious. Reggie Mantle. When she climbed out of the car, leaving Polly curled up in the seat, she joined the others in the cool breeze which played with her hair. Betty kept to Jughead's side. Reggie Mantle was standing there with a traffic cone on his head, red and blue paint splattered all over his grinning face. The boy looked ridiculous. But his grin reminded Betty of a shark. Next to him was a girl with red hair that glistened in the car headlight's haze. Cheryl Blossom.

She too was smiling, her face cheeks covered in glitter. Surrounding the two of them were half a dozen kids all holding weapons of some sort.

Jughead scoffed, his gaze on the girl. Cheryl was covered head to toe in glitter. Her clothes stained different shades of paint. "Did you guys enjoy arts and crafts?" then he eyed what must have been a ten year old holding a lead pipe. "What is this? Lord Of The Flies?"

"Funny!" Cheryl shot Jughead the finger, still grinning.

"Alright, alright, there's no need to be a dick, Jones," Reggie teased. He held a flashlight which shone it in their faces. It was fucking bright. Betty shielded her gaze when the boy drew the flashlight across, illuminating them one by one.

"Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones?" When the light blinded the two boys, Archie and Jughead let out twin groans. "Since when was the Varsity captain hanging out with Mr Pretentious?" Reggie scoffed, before his attention shot to Veronica and Kevin, feighning astonishment. "And Riverdale High's biggest slut and Nose Bleed Boy!" laughing, Reggie pointed at the group. "Wow, you guys really are a mismatched lot, aint ya?"

"Hey," Archie cut in. "Shut it, Reggie."

The boy laughed. "Dude, it's all good!" Throwing his arms up in mock surrender, he cleared his throat. "Honestly, I don't care if you're all having a fucking gang bang. I stopped you for two things," he held up one finger. "Number one: You're talking to your new mayor." he grinned expectantly, and Jughead let out a laugh. "is that a joke?"

Reggie's expression darkened. "Jones, my men here-" he gestured to the kids surrounding him. "They can tell you if it's a joke or not." The boy took a threatening step forwards, but Jughead didn't move. "Are we done here?" he murmured.

Reggie shook his head. "Number two; if any of you do any freaky shit, then we have a right to throw you in jail. Got that?"

Archie frowned. "Wait, what do you mean 'freaky shit'?"

Reggie looked like he might reply, but was interrupted a yell. "Boss! We've got another one!" The group spun around, while Reggie let out an appreciative yell.

Betty kept close to Jughead, her breath in her throat. "What is it?" she whispered. The boy didn't reply. His gaze was stuck to a struggling figure a few feet away from them. They looked to be crawling across the road, while Reggie's goons tried to yank them up. When the figure let out a cry, Betty instantly recognized it and her heart leapt.

Midge. Betty was glued to the spot, watching in horror as Midge Klump was battered with lead pipes, her squirming form trying to claw away. Jughead jumped into action, Archie quickly following suite. But they were grabbed and held back. Veronica was crying.

While her friends were caught, Betty was left alone. Even at the end of the world, or in their case, the end of Riverdale - she was still invisible.

"Stop!" The Vixen screamed. Cheryl grabbed hold of the girl, pinning her arms behind her back. "Shut it!" the redhead hissed. "She was doing magic tricks, she deserves it."

Archie was struggling in a kid's steel grip. "She deserves to be beaten to a pulp?!"

Reggie sighed. "Hey!" he yelled to his cronies. "Bring her over 'ere!"

They obliged, roughly grabbing Midge's crumpled form and dragged her over. When the girl came into the light, she was limp in her attacker's arms. her pale skin was splotched with claret. Betty lost her breath. Reggie clapped his hands. "Drop her."

They did. Midge landed on her knees, gasping for breath, sobbing. When she lifted her head, her bangs were sticking to her pale forehead with blood. Her lip was split, her eyes bruised black and blue. Reggie stood in front of the girl and cleared his throat, bending down to meet the terrified girl's eyes. "Midge," he sighed. "Oh Midge, I really did love you as a classmate. You were so sweet."

Midge blinked at the boy, tears trickling down bloody cheeks. "P- please," she whispered. "I won't do it again, I I - promise."

Reggie hummed. "Mmmm. But you said that a few hours ago, and you did it again."

"I was just trying to entertain the kids!" the girl squeaked. Betty stared at the girl, her mind trying to process what exactly Midge could have done for her to be beaten to a pulp. Archie was bristling in a former Bulldog's arms. "Reggie you bastard!" he choked out, before he was gagged by the boy holding the boy in a vice grip. "Mppphmm- No!" he ragged his way out of the kid's embrace. "You beat a girl!" his voice was shaking, and Betty could barely breathe. Archie had lost it. Well collected, calm and sweet Archie Andrews had snapped. The boy went to help Midge up, but he was yanked back.

Jughead spoke softly. Dangerously. "Reggie, what did Midge do?" Jughead wasn't trying to fight out of his captors grip. Veronica was sobbing softly. Kevin kept glancing back at the car, no doubt checking Polly was okay.

Reggie glared down at Midge. "I told you." he growled. "A magic trick." the boy looked like he order the girl to be attacked again. But he seemed to steel himself before straightening up, smiling brightly again. "Okay! Fitz. Cole. You can let them go." turning to Cheryl still with her arms wrapped around Veronica, he rolled his eyes.

"Cheryl, let Lodge go."

"But she's so fun to play with." the girl giggled, but let go of Veronica, while Reggie's mobs released Archie and Jughead. Once they were free, both of them tried to get to Midge, but Reggie stepped in their way. "If I were you I'd get back in your car and continue on your cute little road trip." he said. His tone was like ice, splintering through Betty's veins. Midge was being dragged back to her feet and hauled away.

"What are you going to do to her?" Jughead growled.

Reggie tapped his nose. "None of your business, Forsythe. Now, like I said. Jump back in your car and go," he said. Cocking his head, a grin split on his lips. "Unless you'd like to come back with us?"

"We're going." Veronica hissed. She grabbed both of them, dragging them away. Betty followed hurriedly grasping hold of Kevin's arm and yanking him with her. Reggie waved them farewell. "Oh, and don't leave town!" Cheryl burst out laughing at Reggie's words while the rest of the group joined in. Apparently that was hilarious.

The five of them piled back in the car, and Archie slammed his door a bit too violently, sitting there for a moment, breathing heavily. Polly was still asleep. Betty couldn't help feel a prick of panic. The little girl had nearly slept all day. Kevin watched the retreating figures of Reggie and his goons, before he let out a soft breath.

"It's okay. I think they're gone." he murmured. Archie nodded, shoving his keys back in the ignition. "But how ling till they're back?" he mumbled. The car jumped to life, and Betty revelled in the familiar feeling of the seat cushioning her back. She frowned at her little sister still asleep. "Polly?" she murmured as Archie stamped the gas, the car flying forwards. Jughead didn't seem fazed. He looked deep in thought.

"Magic tricks." he murmured. "What did Reggie mean by that?"

"Veronica looked sullen. "Midge didn't deserve that." 

Polly didn't move. She was still snoring softly. Betty pressed her backhand to the girl's forehead before hissing, pulling her hand back. Polly's forehead was boiling hot.

She was jumping up in an instant, her heart pounding. "Polly!" she squeaked. "There's something wrong with Polly!"

"What?" Archie clumsily stamped the brake, bringing them to a shaky stop. Betty felt all over her sister, stroking her hands up and down the girl's arms. The girl was burning everywhere. Betty cried out. "She's hot!"

Jughead was already jumping out, along with Archie. Betty pulled Polly out of the car and lay her on the sidewalk. Betty's eyes were stinging. "What's wrong with her?" she whispered. The girl's skin was too hot to touch. It felt like she had dunked her hands in burning lava. "I can look at her, my mom's a doctor." Kevin rushed forwards and scooped the girl into his arms. But the second he was holding Polly, he let out a cry.

"Betty's right, she's- she's burning!" He hissed. Betty felt bile at the back of her throat.

Kevin was right. But Polly wasn't burning, as in she had a high temperature. The five of them stared, baffled, as orange and yellow flames started to lick across her fingertips, enveloping her small hands. Betty jumped forward, but Veronica was quick to hold her back. Kevin swore. "Fuck!" before dropping the girl in panic. Betty was already screaming, and Jughead jumping forwards to grab the girl who was slowly becoming a human fireball. Her legs and torso had been enveloped by fire.  Real, blazing flames erupting from her body. Betty could only watch in mute horror as Polly's hair caught light. But she couldn't help noticing that the little girl's skin wasn't bubbling, peeling off like it should be. It stayed completely intact.  Archie was panicking. "I've got- I've got a water bottle in my car," he dived into the backseat of his beaten ride, fumbling around desperately. 

"But- where did the- where did the fire come from?" Veronica's voice was borderline hysterical. 

 _Magic tricks._ Reggie's voice echoed in Betty's mind as she watched fire climb up her little sister, enveloping her in burning orange. But the girl still stay still, sleeping soundly. Archie reappeared with half a bottle of water and threw it on the girl. But the flames didn't disperse. If anything, they grew. 

Blinking, it took Betty a few seconds to realize Polly was falling from Kevin's grasp. Jughead stumbled forwards, throwing out his arms to catch her. And the girl just- froze.

It was like a freeze frame, except the only person frozen in place was Polly Cooper. She had seemingly been caught in the air by an invisible force and hung suspended, her mane of fiery hair dangling with her. 

Jughead was petrified into place, his arms still reached out for the girl. Polly hovered in the air, a few feet from the ground. There was a moment of silence, before the beanie wearing boy dropped his hands. And the second he did, Polly, still burning bright, hit the asphalt.

 

-


	2. Peter Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead has a rude awakening

 

*

**Jughead**

  
**3 HRS before The Poof.**

-  
He was dreaming. He must be. Blinking rapidly in the early morning haze, Jughead Jones stared up at his ceiling, wide eyed. Early morning light was filtering through the blinds on his windows, casting his room in a warm orange glow. Everything seemed far too real for this to be a dream. There was the smell of burning bacon from the kitchen and bird cries from outside. It wasn't like he'd woken up in the dead of night, surrounded by the pitch black. A quick, nervous glance to his bedside clock told him it was 6:35am. The numbers seemed to jump out at him in vivid glowing red. Jughead licked his dry lips, swallowing.

He wasn't usually a dreamer. Jughead usually stayed blissfully oblivious in the void between reality and slumber, safely tucked in the darkness. It was strange, considering the boy had a vividly creative imagination. But not even his brain, even post slumber, could create such a delusion. Jughead had read up about lucid dreaming. It was quite the concept; becoming aware while you're asleep that you're dreaming and being able to mould your mind to play out your fantasies. Except Jughead was sure he wasn't lucid dreaming, or even dreaming. He felt- real. His shaky breaths were real. He reached out a hand, stretching his fingers out. Yep. That was real. Which was impossible. Because dangling inches from his face, spinning around as if on a carousel, was Peter Rabbit.

Peter Rabbit had been a stuffed animal Jughead had been given when he was a baby. Throughout his life, Jughead had slowly detached himself from it as he grew older. Until Peter ended up stuffed in his desk draw amongst battered books and dirty laundry. Jughead let out a soft breath. Peter rabbit was staring him right in the face as it dangled from invisible strings. The toy seemed to be teasing him, its stitched mouth upturned in a small smile. When he was a baby, Jughead had yanked off Peter's button eye. So the boy was staring at the stuffed animal's disfigured face. There was something horrifying about that which turned the boy's stomach. Jughead squeezed his eyes shut and after a moment he reopened them. But the rabbit was still there, twirling in the air. And Jughead's hand was still stretched out, the tip of his index finger lightly touching the rabbit's nose.

"Jug!" He jumped when the familiar yell of his father came from the kitchen. "You comin down for breakfast, boy?" It was rare that FP Jones made breakfast. Only when he had guests. He half wondered who had come to see his father this early.

Jughead stared hard at the rabbit and narrowed his eyes. Surely this was some kind of joke. After a long moment of frowning at the toy rabbit's plastic button eyes reflecting his confused scowl, Jughead sat up, running a hand through his tousled bed hair. The boy let out a yelp when the the toy rabbit dropped onto his bed and he grabbed for it, yanking the stuffed animal by its floppy ears and searched for string tied to its legs, some kind of logical explanation to how the fuck it had managed to magically jump out of his dresser door and soar three feet in front of his face. But there was no string. Peter hadn't been touched. He still smelt like his mom. Her sweet, Lavender perfume stung his nose and memories of her flashed in his mind. Her bright smile, yet sad, sad eyes.

Gladys Jones had left without a goodbye when Jughead was twelve, and taken his little sister Jellybean with her. Since then the boy only communicated with his mom through phone calls every Christmas or birthday. He had half a mind to stuff his face in the rabbit's fur and breathe in her scent. Like he'd done when he was younger. But after glaring at Peter's knitted smile for a while, he decided against it.

Pulling a face, Jughead dropped the rabbit and bunched his fists in his eyes, yawning. He was probably still half asleep. That's how he had hallucinated the whole damn thing. He came to that conclusion fast, even when his mind was nagging at him to reconsider. But it was early. There was a dull thrum of a blossoming headache beginning to crawl across his forehead, and he was starving. There was no time to start questioning his sanity.

Rolling his eyes at Peter, Jughead sighed and threw the stuffed animal halfway across the room. It hit the wall and crumbled to the floor, laying immobile like it should. Jughead frowned at it for a moment, expecting the rabbit to miraculously come to life.

But of course the rabbit didn't move. Chuckling to himself, Jughead swung his legs out of bed and stretched. He dug in his closet, still sleepy eyed, pulling out a clean pair of pants and a shirt. His jacket was hung over his bedroom door. Dressing quickly, he wandered into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water.

For a moment he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was paler than usual, dark splotches under his eyes. He stared back, furrowing his eyebrows. Maybe he was imagining it, but his eyes somehow looked different. They seemed to stick out more. He blinked once, swiping at them.

"You're losing it, Jones." Jughead muttered to himself, grabbing a comb and dragging it through his unruly dark hair before heading back to his room, his hands pawing at his desk for the beanie that was practically part of him. After a moment of panic, he found it on the floor, and pulled it on. "Jug!" FP Jones yelled again. "Come on, get your ass out of bed!"

_His father's voice sounded wrong._

_Distant, like an echo._

Jughead shook his head, gritting his teeth.  _Just your imagination, Jones. Chill out._

The raven haired boy cleaned his teeth, spitting into the basin. "Coming!" his battered converse were where he'd left them last night. Pulling them on quickly he grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulders.

When Jughead stumbled into the Jones kitchen a few minutes later, still with telltale traces of toothpaste on his bottom lip and chin, he just about caught the back end of what sounded like a growing argument. The person speaking was his father. "No, I don't think it's the right time, Alice. You heard what Hermione and Tom said. If Hiram turns it on-"

Jughead found himself staring at an unlikely congregation of people sitting at his kitchen table. His father drifted off and cleared his throat. There was a man he instantly recognised; Fred Andrews. He was the father of Archie, a kid in his class. The two of them had maybe exchanged words once or twice, but apart from that they didn't know each other. The man owned Andrews construction and often smiled at him on his way to school. Sometimes offering to give him a ride. The raven haired boy smiled uneasily, stepping over the threshold. "Mr Andrews." he nodded at the man, who was drinking from a stained mug. Jughead's stomach turned at the aroma of expensive perfume hanging in the air and stale coffee.

"Oh, Hello Jughead." Fred looked surprised, setting his coffee cup down. "We weren't expecting you to be up for the next hour."

Next to Fred was a petite looking blonde woman who looked out of place in the trailer. She wore a pastel pink sweater and grey skirt. She remained silent, her hands clasped in her lap. Jughead's father was slumped on the ratty couch nursing his own cup of coffee.

"Jug?" FP Jones rose to his feet, a frown creased on his lips. If Jughead wasn't mistaken, it looked like his father, as well as Fred and the woman weren't expecting him.

Jughead chose to ignore the pressing questions in his head like;  _Why did his father look surprised to see him when he'd called him for breakfast in the first place?_   But he maintained a cocky smile, more interested in what they were talking about before he walked in. The boy leaned against the counter folding his arms and cocked a brow.

"So what's all this about?" he asked, before fumbling in the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice. He poured himself a glass, and drank it slowly. Deliberately. The whole time Jughead's gaze remained stuck to his father. Neither FP nor Fred answered, but the blonde cleared her throat. "Young man," she smiled at him. But he could tell her patience was thinning. "Don't you have school to get to?"

Jughead nearly choked on his orange juice. "It's barely seven O' clock." he muttered. Something was up. He could feel it. There was a tension in the air between the three adults. The way the petite woman was sitting, her clasped hands bunched far too tightly in her lap. Fred Andrews kept taking quick sips of his coffee. His father had shouted him, right? Hopefully he hadn't hallucinated that too. Jughead felt his stomach twist into knots. The orange juice burned in his throat. He'd clearly walked in on something being discussed privately. "Dad?" he murmured, gingerly pressing two fingers to his right temple. The pain was getting progressively worse. But one of Jughead Jones' flaws was that he was incredibly stubborn. Instead of apologising for interrupting what looked like a serious conversation, he didn't move, his free hand gripping the edge of the counter.

"Jug, we're in the middle of something right now." FP murmured. Jughead opened his mouth to protest, insist that he'd been called down to breakfast. But his gaze fell on the stove however, which was empty. There was no frying pan in sight, and the smell of bacon seemed to have been a phantom aroma tingling in his nose, because there was no sign of anything cooking. Jughead bit his lip and rubbed his forehead more aggressively. But the pain was still there, an irritating, pinching pain crawling across his his forehead.

Part of him wanted to speak to his father, tell FP about the what had happened with the teddy bear, and then clearly fantasizing his name being called down for breakfast. That was crazy, right? not just hallucinating his dad's voice, but a flying teddy bear?

_God, he needed some Tylenol._

"Alice," FP spoke up. "Cool it, alright? he's going." The woman, or 'Alice' huffed and folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. The man's gaze flickered to his son. "Why don't you go and see Sweets and Fangs before school, boy?"

Jughead straightened up. The pain was shitty, yes. But his interest had been piqued, the perfect distraction from the throbbing in his head. His father having a secret meeting with a mysterious blonde woman and Fred Andrews? Which he clearly wasn't invited to join. He set his glass of orange juice on the counter and nodded at the three of them. When his father shot him a glare, his lips curved into a cocky smile. "I'm good here." he murmured, gesturing for them to continue. "Sweets and Fangs don't get up til around lunchtime. But you know that, right dad?" Sweet Pea and Fangs Fogarty were two kids who lived in the trailer park, who were also Jughead's age. They were never up this early.

"FP." The woman, or 'Alice' muttered. "I'm not comfortable..." she drifted off, her icy blue eyes narrowing at Jughead. Those eyes were familiar. Jughead felt something prick in his chest. He'd definitely seen them before. But a younger, softer version. Alice's gaze dropped to her lap. "FP, we can't talk about this...this situation with your sixteen year old son present."

Jughead rolled his eyes. "Almost seventeen, actually." he corrected her. The dark haired boy leaned forward, derisively. The thumping in his head was a push to be more difficult than normal. "I'm old enough to listen to adult conversations."

"Jug," FP's tone softened. "Why don't you head off to school early? We're having a chat," he chuckled. "It's nothing for you to worry about," the man looked at Fred who nodded. "We're just going over the plans for the Fall festival."

Jughead rolled his eyes. Fred Andrews, like his son, was a bad liar. He could see the man was clearly hiding something from the wrinkles in his forehead, his pursed lips, and Archie's dad not being able to meet his gaze. The Fall festival wasn't until November, and they were barely three days into September. Jughead didn't say any of this however. Whatever sketchy shit his father and the others were embroiled in, he was determined to find out.

"But why can't I listen in?" the pain in temples head had cultivated right around the back of his head, thrumming in his skull. When Jughead looked up, the light was far too bright, colourful prisms pulsating in his vision. Wincing, he lowered his gaze.

"Honestly." Alice glared at him. "My daughter is fast asleep right now, and here you are trying to dig around in your father's business."

Jughead frowned at her. "You have a daughter?" 

FP's tone was final. "Boy. Leave."

"Alright, alright, I'm going." letting out an exasperated hiss, Jughead shouldered his bag, wandering over to the door. Pushing it open, he was greeted to the chilly morning breeze. "Bye, dad." he muttered, ignoring the other two. He was about to step out, slamming the door behind him in what he hoped was a dramatic exit, when FP followed him to the door. "Jug." turning to meet his father's gaze, Jughead winced when the pain came back with a vengeance. Until then, it had sat dormant. The man looked like he might want to say something. His grey eyes were pinched with exhaustion, his cheeks chalky white.

"Look after yourself, alright?" When his father lay a hand on his shoulder, Jughead shrugged it off. With his back turned, he thought about giving his dad a quick hug, like he used to when he was in pain. But they had an audience that clearly wanted to get Jughead out of the picture as soon as possible. So he bit back the urge to complain about the agony rocking his skull, and the growing fear that he was possibly losing his mind.  _Seeing things, hearing things- what next?_

"I always look after myself." Jughead muttered, before stepping out of the trailer and slamming the rickety wooden door in his father's face. He had only made it a few steps before the stabbing pain stopped him in his path. Groaning, he pressed his fists into his eyes, praying for relief. It felt like a metal vice had been tightened around his skull. It was the kind of pain that made him feel sick to his stomach. His gut twisted, bile scolding in his throat. Maybe he was dying. That thought wasn't comforting.

The beanie wearing boy managed another slow step on shaking legs before agony exploded in his head. He fell to his knees, eyes stinging, chest clenching.

 _Stop, stop, stop._  He wanted to cry. But Jughead was good at suppressing his emotions. Even he was in agony. The raven haired boy brought his hands up to cradle his aching head. Pressing his fingers into his tender temples he squeezed his eyes shut. _It was just a headache_. He told himself. _Just a headache._

All at once Jughead noticed a shift in the air. The boy's eyes flickered open, and he let out a slow breath. His heart started to pound in his chest, his stomach vaulting into his throat. It was like he'd opened his eyes and found himself in a different universe.

For the most, everything still seemed relatively normal. The sun was still resolutely below the horizon and the trailer park was still drowned in early morning mist.

It was quite a sight. The perfect shot for a photo. But when his gaze shifted, he found himself staring at - a Thing. The same type of Thing he'd witnessed earlier with Peter rabbit. Jughead was a firm sceptical of the supernatural. Ghosts, phantoms and things that went bump in the night were fiction as far as he was concerned. But hanging in front of him just like the stuffed animal, was a cluster of rocks and pebbles wrapped in a cloud of dust, seemingly sucked from the ground itself dangling there in the air.

Before Jughead could register what was happening, agony exploded in his skull once again, and he was snapped out of the temporary reverie. Slowly he lowered his hands from his face, jumping when the rocks fell with them,  hitting the ground one by one. While the swirling cloud of dust simply dropped. Gravity dragging it back to the rocky asphalt. The pain that had been an agonizing throb stopped. It just stopped. Which left Jughead on his knees, still gazing at thin air.

Blinking rapidly, he drew in a slow, shuddery breath.

"Jug?" when he turned his head, FP had poked his head out of the Jones trailer, his expression crumpled with confusion and worry. "Are you okay?"

Jughead jumped to his feet with a quick nod. "Y- yeah," his voice was shaking, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. "I fell. It's no big deal."

But it was a big deal. Jughead just didn't know that yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are the parents hiding? ;) please tell me if you're reading, and leave kudos of you enjoyed <3

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH. I love writing this holy crap. Tell me what you think, and leave kudos for more! :D Anybody who's read the book, hmu ;) I'm halfway through chapter 2 eep.


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